The End
by es99se
Summary: "If you were Stoker Blake, then who was... well, you?" Just a random oneshot set at the end of Raising Steam, because the book was so good!


**Disclaimer: Is it fair that Raising Steam only just came out in the US, while the rest of the civilized world has had it for four months? Obviously, if I were Terry Pratchett, it would have been out by December. Hope you enjoy; please review.**

Sam Vimes reclined in his chair, treasuring the rare moment of peace and quiet as he ate his lunch. Cheery had somehow transgressed Sybil's orders and made him a proper BLT sandwich, with the perfect ratio of meat to vegetable. Namely, a massive slice of bacon topped with a tomato sliver and a fraction of a leaf of lettuce. When Sibyl found out, there would be Words, but Vimes decided to just enjoy the moment. After all the trouble with the grags and the railway, it was a welcome respite to be alone in his office with no pressing responsibilities. (And of course, paperwork was never pressing.)

He should have known it was too good to last. A knock at his door heralded Angua, who seemed to be suppressing a grin. She briefly communicated to him that Moist von Lipwig was waiting for him downstairs, apparently pacing frantically. Vimes felt impressed despite himself. Something big must have happened for that smooth weasel Lipwig to lose his cool. With a sigh, he hastily swallowed down the rest of his sandwich and marched impatiently into the locker room.

Lipwig was indeed waiting for him, with Adora Belle Lipw-no, Dearheart, she was very particular about that- at his side. In the brief interval that had elapsed since Angua had seen the man, he seemed to have recovered his normal demeanor. There were no signs of "frantic pacing", and indeed, the only unusual thing Vimes saw was the very fact that Lipwig wanted to speak with him.

* * *

Moist sat uncomfortably in the Watch locker room, remembering his earlier visit to Vetinari. After the shock of finding that Stoker Blake had been Vetinari all along, Moist had been operating on autopilot for several minutes before his natural suspicion had kicked in. Vetinari had been swinging the poker in the fireplace, sparks flying. Looking at them and then at Moist, he had said, "And if you, Mister Lipwig, ever tell anyone about this, Mister Trooper will be very glad to see you again. Do we have an understanding? Excellent."

Moist had been struck with the impossibility of anyone ever believing this ludicrous tale anyway. As he tried to process it, the autopilot finally departed and Moist's suspicion was duly suspected. "If you were Stoker Blake," he said slowly, "Then who was... well, you?"

Vetinari had raised an eyebrow, a faint smile playing at the corners of his mouth. "Several years ago, an actor named Charlie entered our fine city. Do ask Commander Vimes about him sometime, will you? Of course, I trust you will not impart the reason you are seeking this information. Mister Trooper is so fond of you, you know."

With a sharp twist of his body, Vetinari had sat at his desk and pulled out the day's crossword. "Don't let me detain you," he had offered after a moment.

* * *

"Well?" barked Vimes. "Why are you here?"

Lipwig seemed to hesitate shortly, then plunged in. "Do you know anything about an actor named Charlie who moved here a few years ago?" he asked plainly.

Vimes looked at Lipwig, poker face firmly attached. Why did he want to know about Charlie? It must have something to do with Vetinari, but what that something was, Vimes could not say. Vimes thought briefly of the signs of humanity Lipwig had shown during the long travel to Schmaltzburg and decided not to question this yet, to just give the information. (Yet, of course, was an important word in that sentence.) "Several years ago, someone tried to kill Drumknott and leave Ankh-Morpork on horse with seventy thousand stolen dollars. All the evidence pointed to the Patrician, who was unconscious, having seemingly knocked his head when trying to mount the horse. It turned out Vetinari had a lookalike, Charlie, who was being coerced into framing the Patrician."

A light went off in Lipwig's eyes. "Of course!" he breathed. "That's who-" He stopped abruptly and hastily said, "What happened to Charlie afterwards?"

Vimes absently told him of Charlie's enrollment in the Actors' Guild and eventual marriage, mind racing all the while. Vetinari must have mentioned Charlie to Lipwig, and perhaps told him to ask Vimes about it, but to what end?

After some polite conversation between the three that both men were obviously trying to finish as quickly as possible, Lipwig and his wife left. Vimes remained in the locker room, trying to deduce the purpose of Lipwig's visit. Lipwig had exclaimed "Of course! That's who-", before breaking off. That's who what? In the context of Vetinari... Charlie was almost his exact double. Vetinari had distinct mannerisms. Could it be...?

Vimes stood up and left the locker room, ready to tackle the mountains of paperwork lining his office. He wouldn't try to solve this mystery any further. Cedric could do _terrible_ things with enough kittens.

(beginning)


End file.
